


All Truths

by theskywasblue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dokugakuji keeps secrets, and Kougaiji speaks in riddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Truths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [velvetina_wonka](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=velvetina_wonka).



He didn’t really start feeling the pain until the flight home – at first it was just a low throbbing sensation in time with his heartbeat, running across his left shoulder blade and down his back. Of course, he could tell he was bleeding, but it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. He had bled plenty before, and Kougaiji’s serious, but quietly concerned expression was nothing new to him.

By the time they reached the castle Dokugakuji had to admit to himself that he did feel a little light-headed, but he didn’t want to say anything. It was late, well past midnight, and waking Yaone seemed unfair. He waved off the prince’s questions, promised he could look after it himself, and focused on walking a straight line down the corridor as he headed for his room.

When the pain really, truly hit him was as he bent over the edge of the large copper tub in his bathroom to turn on the water, and a sensation like liquid fire ran all through his back, making his vision white around the edges. He gripped the edge of the tub with one hand, fighting the urge to vomit, the near-certainty of unconsciousness; he only just managed to get his other hand around the taps to start the water running, and by then the pain had ebbed enough that he could breathe.

Straightening up was easier, but not by much. He was messed up and he knew it, but by now it was too late to do anything other than what he had in mind. Going down the hall and waking Yaone would take more energy than he was sure he had left in him.

He took his boots off first, then his pants because he could just undo the button, let them fall around his ankles, and step out, hesitating to touch the ruins of his jacket and the shirt underneath. The jacket was actually the easy part, once he got it off his shoulders he could just let it fall off his arms to the floor. The shirt was worse; the edges of the fabric clung to the slowly clotting wound, and it stung like acid to pull at them, not to mention the fact that he couldn’t get his hands properly above his head without feeling like he was going to cry. Eventually he just went to the medicine chest, took out the scissors from the small first aid kit that Yaone made him keep, and cut the shirt down the front. It sucked to ruin it, but it was toast anyway, with the gash down the back and all the blood soaked into it.

Finally, he got himself into the tub and sank into the water with a soft hiss, letting it draw him in like a lover’s embrace. The tub was deep enough that the water came nearly up around his shoulders, wisps of steam curling in the air. He couldn’t lean back against the edge of the tub quite the way he wanted to, but it was good enough. He closed his eyes against the sight of the water swirling with traces of pink around him and hoped for the stinging pain to fade.

There was a soft knock at the bathroom door, and Dokugakuji was not quick enough or clear of mind enough to say something before it opened without the person on the other side waiting for his answer – after all, he had never denied the prince access to any part of his rooms before.

“Dokugakuji I...” Kougaiji stopped like someone had hit him in the jaw, one foot inside the bathroom, and hand still on the doorknob. Dokugakuji looked back over his shoulder as best he could, trying not to let the panic at being caught, or the pain he was feeling, show on his face. “Merciful Gods Dokugakuji...”

“It’s nothing Kou – really.”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.” This came out as a sharp growl that made the hairs on the back of Dokugakuji’s neck stand on end as the prince bent and retrieved the remains of his shirt from the floor, holding it up in demonstration. “There’s more blood than cotton to this shirt!”

The prince was right, Dokugakuji had to admit to himself as he turned his gaze straight ahead again, letting out a long sigh. He heard Kougaiji drop the remains of the shirt into the wastebasket. “I just didn’t want to worry you Kou – that’s all.”

“And what would do you suppose I would have done if you had bled to death in the middle of the night?” The Prince’s words were clipped, sharp as the blade that had sliced through Dokugakuji’s flesh. “Do you have any idea...” He stopped suddenly, taking a deep, almost gasping, breath. “I’m waking Yaone.”

“No...” Dokugakuji managed quickly. “Don’t Kou – come on – she needs her sleep. It’ll be fine now.”

“Now?”

Dokugakuji nodded carefully; even that motion hurt. “Trust me.”

The prince looked suspicious for a long moment, then – with a movement as quick as a sword-thrust, he snatched the washcloth from the edge of the tub and stepped behind Dokugakuji.

“Kou what...”

“Quiet,” Kougaiji commanded. “If you’re not going to let me wake Yaone, then I’m going to have a look at it myself. I’m not a fool Dokugakuji.”

“I never said you were.”

Kougaiji knelt behind the tub, dipped the washcloth into the water, and let it glide over Dokugakuji’s shoulders. Dokugakuji could feel a tiny bite of pain where the edge of the cloth touched the edge of his wound. The prince dipped the cloth again, wrung it out over the back of Dokugakuji’s neck. The sensation of the warm water over his flesh felt wonderful, and Dokugakuji had to bite his lip to suppress a moan.

“This is serious Dokugakuji.”

“No,” he gave his head a small shake, “it’s really not.”

“You are a ass sometimes,” Kougaiji’s voice was very close to his ear as the prince bent to dip the cloth once more.

“The water will help.”

“How?”

“It will.”

His confidence silenced the prince, at least for a moment, and there was only the sound of their breathing, and dripping water. Dokugakuji focused on the little pricks of pain to keep him from enjoying the sensation of Kougaiji caressing his skin. He would have preferred Yaone to help him, if he was honest, not because he thought that the prince couldn’t take proper care of the wound, but because Dokugakuji knew he would enjoy the attention. Probably too much.

He and the prince had shared a bed, more than once even – the trouble was that Dokugakuji knew it wasn’t something he could allow himself to expect. Kougaiji was a prince – his friend, certainly – but a prince, and it was always just a matter of relief and safety. Kougaiji knew he could trust Dokugakuji – that Dokugakuji would never presume anything, or try to impose anything. Dokugakuji worked hard to maintain that emotional distance.

“Why do you do this to yourself?”

It was barely a whisper. Dokugakuji tipped his head, frowning. “What was that Kou?”

There was no answer. He was just beginning to think that maybe he had imagined it, when the prince spoke again.

“You could have dodged that attack.”

Dokugakuji flinched, and not from any pain. “Yeah, I know I could have. But you couldn’t have. I’m your bodyguard Kou, getting shit-kicked sometimes is part of the job description.”

Kougaiji huffed softly, “but you are also my...my friend Dokugaku...and...”

The prince stood suddenly, folding the washcloth and draping it over the edge of the tub. “Just see that you’re more careful next time. It would inconvenience me greatly if you were unable to perform your duties as required.”

Dokugakuji felt his heart sink impossibly, and he pushed his wet fingers through his hair, “Sorry Kou – it won’t happen again, I promise.”

He stood carefully, thinking Kougaiji was in the process of leaving, but when he stepped from the tub and reached for a towel, the prince was just standing there, looking at him with an expression that Dokugakuji had never seen on his face before – an impossible tangle of pain, longing and something else that made Dokugakuji’s chest tight.

“Kou?”

He expected the prince to shake it off, to snap back to himself the same way he always had every time there was a crack in his composure, but this time nothing changed. Under the intensity of the prince’s gaze, Dokugakuji became keenly aware of every inch of himself, from the lingering ache in his back to the droplets of water rolling off his skin and pooling on the stone floor.

And yet somehow Kougaiji was the one broken out in goose bumps. Dokugakuji could see them all up and down his dark arms, prickling on the sides of his neck and even on the skin showing through the gapped buttons in his sleep shirt.

Dokugakuji’s fingers found that bare patch of skin before his mind had really processed the desire to reach out. They skimmed carefully along the graceful tuck at the top of Kou’s ribcage, right to the hollow of his throat, and stopped there. When the prince stepped forward, Dokugakuji's elbow collapsed automatically, his palm spreading out over the high part of Kougaiji's ribcage as the distance between them was reduced to almost nothing. Kougaiji's forehead was fire-hot against his collarbone, so much so that Dokugakuji almost didn’t feel the soft, damp touch of the prince’s lips against his skin.

Trying to fight back the shudder that ran through him from such a simple gesture was like trying to hold water in his fingers.

“I think...I’m beginning to disapprove of the way you do your job Dokugaku.”

“Sorry?” He ventured, feeling breathless. It had been a long time since he had held the prince like that, so much so he had nearly forgotten how much he enjoyed the soft, comforting warmth of Kougaiji’s body. The heat evoked a wonderful sensation all throughout Dokugakuji's body - definite lust, but tempered by a sensation of safety and relief.

"I am not supposed to care," Kougaiji looked up at him suddenly, head tipped just a little to the side like a curious animal, "am I? Servants are meant to be expendable. Although I have always cared too much."

Dokugakuji wasn't sure it was possible for a person to care too much, especially not a person in a position of power. When people like that stopped caring, they became cruel and hard, forgot they had a beating heart like everyone else.

"I..." Dokugakuji's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he had to stop and clear his throat. "I dunno Kou - but to be honest...I'm glad you care. I'm glad someone cares about me."

He had expected the kiss, anticipated it, even - the heat and wetness, the tingling almost chill down the back of his neck. Kougaiji kissed him with a hunger that was shocking, like he wanted to swallow Dokugakuji whole. When they parted it was with a matching breathless gasps. Dokugakuji's heart was racing somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, but before he could swallow it down enough to say anything; the prince was stepping away and reaching for a towel.

“You’re pale, Dokugaku. You should be in bed.”

Dokugakuji definitely felt lightheaded, but he doubted it had anything to do with his injuries. At the same time, he didn’t feel like he could argue. He allowed Kougaiji to shepherd him into the bedroom and sat obediently on the edge of the bed to be dried off. The prince took the whole task very seriously, his touches so cautious that it made Dokugakuji shake; as his shoulders were gently dabbed with the towel he laid his forehead against Kougaiji’s stomach and put a hand on his hip, trying to communicate...something, and feeling useless all the while.

“I really will be fine,” he finally managed as Kougaiji helped him stand and pulled back the covers.

“I know you will be.” Kougaiji said the words with complete conviction, as if there was no other possible outcome.

Getting himself into bed was harder than Dokugakuji thought it would be; nearly every position was at  
least a little bit uncomfortable, but finally he managed to settle more or less on his side with one arm tucked under the pillows, and tugged the blankets up around his hips. Kougaiji looked ready to leave, and though he didn't want to, Dokugakuji held off saying anything. He figured he wasn't in a position to ask for anything, considering how much the prince had already freely given him. He closed his eyes, wanting sleep, and waiting for the cold sound of the door closing; instead he felt the mattress dip and a warm arm slide around his waist.

He opened his eyes, and Kougaiji was looking right at him through about three inches of incomplete darkness, close enough to see every line of his eyelashes.

"How do you feel?"

"Uh..." Dokugakuji's stomach tangled pleasantly. "That's a loaded question there Kou."

The prince actually laughed - a warm puff of air that teased Dokugakuji's lips, "I meant your wound."

"It...hurts. But not as much," he added hastily when the prince's eyes darkened with worry.

Kougaiji took a long breath, let out a soft sigh, and shifted closer across the bed. His skin was even warmer when bare under Dokugakuji's fingers, and the tip of his cock was wet against Dokugakuji's abs. The kiss that followed was more languorous than the first, but no less hungry; He felt Kougaiji's careful claws wandering down his side, over his hip, then along the length of his aching cock, sending a swirl of pleasure through his whole body. He brought his hand down to join Kougaiji's their combined grip enclosing both their lengths, squeezing and stroking as they panted into each other’s mouths and nipped at each other’s lips. It was more frantic than usual, but Dokugakuji didn’t resist or try to slow him. He liked to think he understood the sometimes stunted, often veiled language that Kougaiji tended to speak. Buried under layers of ingrained formality or hesitation, masked by uncertainty or desperation, was genuine feeling, honest need, even if he very rarely spoke about it.

Dokugakuji was the first to lose control, smothering a moan against Kougaiji’s jaw as his come pulsed through their joined fingers. He mouthed and sucked gently at the elegant line of Kougaiji’s neck as the prince rocked his hips, thrusting into their hands until he came with a soft moan.

They lay together afterwards, sharing soft, panting breaths until Kougaiji shifted away, grabbing the discarded towel from the chair next to the bed to clean them both before getting back under the covers, curling close and tucking his head underneath Dokugakuji’s chin. Within moments, Dokugakuji was slipping over the boundary into sleep, but Kougaiji seemed restless next to him, in more than way that suggested he was having trouble getting comfortable.

“Kou – you okay?”

“Yes,” The prince’s voice was very quiet, his breath warm against Dokugakuji’s skin. He stopped moving and seemed to settle again, fingertips ghosting over Dokugakuji’s chest and stomach. “I was just thinking I should give you a sword.”

“I have a sword Kou,” Dokugakuji yawned, resisting the urge to stretch a little, knowing it would hurt. “A perfectly good one.”

“No. This one is better. In the vaults beneath the castle there is a demon sword – not an ordinary weapon.” He cleared his throat softly. “It could protect you, which would make it much easier for you to perform your duties...as my bodyguard.”

Dokugakuji chuckled, pressing his lips briefly to the top of Kougaiji’s head.

“I understand Kou,” he answered; and he did, probably better than the prince could even imagine.

-End-


End file.
